


Untitled

by Rarae



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:32:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9457403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rarae/pseuds/Rarae
Summary: Isra lives on a totalitarian planet with his tribe is unduly attacked and faces political torment from all sides. But people will not live in terror and suppression forever. One day, something must break.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first work that isn't poetry. Please be kind.

-Two Years from Now-

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—  
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—  
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—  
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

Martin Niemöller 

I had another name, a name that breathed fire and promised change. But that name is lost to me now.

They used to tell us stories, you know. About days when the tribes and clans lived together in relative peace. I can’t really imagine that now. They’re coming for me, even as I write this. My legacy… reduced to a hasty note written in a child’s scrawl in the back of a book. How fitting.

I haven’t time for this.

We are losing the battle, so, you reading this, if you are a person with a soul with even half the honor of a murklaa, then you will deliver the following message to Ser Merek T’lister Du’Ven of the High Council of Rokné: He comes with the sand and fire.

Tell him I am Isra and I am coming.

\-------Chapter 1--------

When distilling minako leaves it is very important to refilter the leaves after adding the second dose of kerosene. Otherwise, after it is filtered with ammonia, dried, and processed, the smoker may just find that the blunt they’re smoking has an extra hint of deadly to it. Isra, however, has the reputation for being the most reliable drug vender in Shikahr and could never make such a potentially disastrous mistake as this. A tainted line could spell the end of a short, but esteemed career.

Isra stared at the purple and green mess in front of him with the intensity of a guard attending his prisoner.

“What’d the minako do to you?’

“Shut up Berr. Nobody asked you.”

“I’m just saying Isra, you’re looking like that slop is about to rise from its watery tomb to take its vengeance for its untimely demise to live out its afterlife giving a dazed high to a bunch of junkies who can't deal with their problems.”

“Seriously, I don’t have time for you now. Go away.”

“Now, now Issy, no need to be snappish. I know you have the restraint of a starving bilgemre but still.” 

“Why you little-” Isra stormed around, fist reared back, ready to continue the verbal sparring in a language he was more familiar with.

“Isra!”

“Navi!” Isra sing-songed. “This isn’t what it looks like. I was just showing my good buddy Berr here how to throw a proper punch. He’s really quite hopeless with this sort of thing, you know.”

Navik hummed. “Berr?” A pause. “Berr!” Berr startled from where he was poking at Isra’s minako distillery with undisguised disgust.

“Don’t touch that!”

“Come Navik! We were going to the sand gardens are we not?” He dropped the stirring rod he was holding, and pulled Navik toward the door. “We must hurry if we wish to get there before this escalates.”

Isra slowly sat back down, head in his hands. Berr and Navik. They had been spending increasingly greater amount of time together as of late, often forgoing prior plans with Isra or Heracles in favor of wandering off on their own. Alone. Together. But, no, this is a fruitless line of thinking, or maybe it was more like a briar patch with too many bristles that may wound. And anyways, Isra and Navik have been formal for a number of years now, their marriage almost as inevitable as the sunset. Isra tried to return his focus to his simmering plants, but his mind kept wandering.

It bypassed the issue of his greatest enemy and his fiercest love, sidestepped the issue of his upset clients, and even walked past his favorite political debate topics and eventually decided to stop at nothing.

Sometimes the bliss of nothing is a good temporary distraction for the troubles of tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love feedback! I may or may not continue. I have an entire storyline laid out but I don't think my writing skills are up to the task.


End file.
